His
by Finely Endowed
Summary: She was his. Mind, body, and soul - she was his. If only he would be hers. Swearing, violence, and smut. Happy/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Sons of Anarchy. **

**Fuck you all for reminding me. Just kidding, love anyone who even clicked on this story! It means a lot to mean that you're going to give this a chance. Enjoy!**

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I was his.

I knew he would never be mine. I would never lay claim to his unruly heart. His kiss – his touch – would never solely belong to me. He would forever crave the touch of other women.

But no matter how many women offered themselves to him, no matter his near indifferent feelings me, I would always be his.

No one else would do for me. I had tried to force myself to be with other men. I had even attempted to establish a meaningful relationship with someone. I couldn't though. I had never succeeded in erasing his dark eyes, his possessive touch, his tattooed body from my mind.

So I would forever be his. Long after he died from some club related accident. Long after the men grew tired of me. Long after I gave in and married someone from the loneliness.

I would always be his.

**~SOA~**

"Hey, babe," I murmured, bumping my hip against the side of one of the sweetbutts. She was young, that was for sure. She had long, inky black hair. It was teased and hair sprayed beyond belief. The heavy makeup helped to make her seem old enough to hang around the other girls, and the slutty outfit she had adorned put her up there with the best of them, even with her small rack. She was a new favorite amongst the men, but once her novelty wore off, she would be just another piece of ass. Her best feature were her long, mile long, legs, but even in heels, she was still short. If I had to guess, I would bet she had just turned eighteen the day she stepped into the clubhouse. My own age had just been a year older than her when I started hanging around the club.

I struggled to remember her name. We had so many women coming in and out of the club, some stayed for long periods, and others didn't. It became difficult to remember the ones who were new. I usually didn't bother to get to know them unless they were aiming to stick around for the long run.

"Kayla," I said suddenly, the name floating up from the depths of my mind. She rubbed her thumbs under her eyes, clearing off the smeared eyeliner and mascara. She wiped at her eyes and then at her cheeks, trying to hide the evidence of tears.

"Yeah, Jamie?" she asked warily, unsure of what I wanted. A lot of the whores around here didn't take kindly to new meat. I didn't blame her for being suspicious. When I first came here, the women started out nice, but went quickly from their faux friendliness to blatant threatening. It was always a fight for position at the clubhouse, and a fresh, beautiful girl coming in always knocked the old girls down a few pegs for a while.

I was quick to try and put her at ease, leaning against the bar and smiling at her. "You don't look to good sweetie, what's up?" I asked softly. The blaring music from the party covered up my words from wandering ears, but they were loud enough for her to hear.

She sniffed, before glaring at me with watery baby blues. "What's it matter to you?"

I sighed, not in the mood for a catfight tonight, as much as it would please the men. "Who was it, honey?" She continued to scowl at me. I shoved her lightly with my shoulder. "Either you tell me, and I go put them in their place, or you don't, and they can continue being a dick to you." It was hard for most of the new girls to get used to the harsh demeanors of the bikers. Some of the guys liked to get rough… a little too rough at times. Usually the Sons didn't like tearing up their warm and willing property, but having a bad day made them careless. Sometimes a sweetbutt got shoved around or yelled at. It wasn't anything for the women who had been here one or two years, but for a newbie, it was often the thing that decided whether they wanted to leave or stay.

She bit her lip, looking less hostile, but still distrustful. Her eyes drifted to the corner of the room. "Will he be mad at me for telling?" she asked in a small voice. I followed her gaze, spotting a middle aged man with curly black hair, light blue eyes, and a lean, but sturdy physique. I chuckled lightly. I should have already expected Tig. He had seemed stressed when he entered the party.

"Him?" I asked to make sure.

She nodded, before asking again, "Will he be mad at me?"

"Not after I'm done with him," I laughed with a wink. She didn't stop me as I covered up the fist shaped, red mark on her shoulder with my own cute, cropped jacket. It was a cheap piece of shit from some lower side boutique anyway. It was no sweat to get rid of it. It had just enough sleeve to hide the soon to be bruise. She shoved her arms through it, understanding what I was doing right away. I then proceeded to wipe at makeup still spread around her eyes. "Okay, you're good now babe. You can go to the bathroom, fix your hair, and get back to servicing another biker, or you can go home. It won't kill you to miss the rest of this party when we'll have another one just like it next week." She swallowed and nodded.

"Thanks Jamie," Kayla mumbled. I just grinned at her. It was fun sometimes to help out the younger sweetbutts. They reminded me of taking care of my sister before she married some guy from another charter.

"You're fine, no thanks needed. I'll go take care of him," I said with a smile, titling my head in Tig's direction. I didn't pay attention to what she did after that, intent on finding out what was Tig's problem tonight.

I headed toward him. He was staring darkly at a stripper on a pole. She was already topless, and though I could tell Tig was enjoying the show by the growing tent in his pants, his face didn't necessarily give the pleasure away. I glanced down at my outfit. It was type the Tig would love.

My leather skirt could barely be called a skirt, and the bra I was wearing, black, with a lacy enticing pattern, would have been minutely less slutty with the jacket over it. I knew he would love that I was in a thong (that matched the bra) underneath the skirt and prepared myself to be groped on heavily.

He spotted me coming and narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, Jamie," he greeted in his gravelly voice. I titled my head, fluttering my dark eyelashes.

"Stressed?" I asked in a low voice. He responded with a responsive, aggravated sound in the back of his throat. "Want me to help you out with that?"

His tune changed fast as he heard my words and his frown turned into a mocking smirk. "Are you gonna stray from the big, bad killer tonight for some Tig loving?" I laughed to myself and rolled my eyes. Taking his words as an affirmative response, I climbed into his lap. Placing my hands onto his shoulders, I positioned myself over the pretty impressive hard on hidden underneath his jeans.

"You're not getting anything past a lap dance and a good grind Tig," I smiled. Despite his rather eccentric mood swings, I liked Tig. He was a good guy. He always respected my boundaries, for some reason I couldn't fathom, considering he didn't care for any of the other sweetbutts' limits. He remained stiff in the chair as I began to move. I rolled my eyes. "Come on, take advantage," I urged. I wasn't really getting any pleasure from this, as much as I wished I could, because Tig was not a bad looking guy. But for some reason my body only responded to one man's touch.

Tig slowly leaned back, relaxing as I moved over him. I slowly swiveled my hips. "Good boy," I hummed. My brown locks brushed against his chest rhythmically as I started and maintained a smooth, enticing pace. He groaned as I sensually rolled and moved my hips over his. "Now, what's bothering you, sweetie?"

He closed his eyes as I continued moving slowly. "Don't start Jamie," he answered in an annoyed voice. I tsked and shook my head. I moved my hips slightly quicker and his mouth opened in pleasure.

"Now, now Tig," I began, taking my hands off his shoulders and running them through his hair. "Don't be difficult. You took your frustration out on one of the girls, the hot new favorite. We don't want to be scaring off fresh pussy, now do we?" He was practically panting as I pressed my groin into his. When he didn't answer, I leaned closer, licking a trail up his neck to his ear. "Do we?"

"Shit, Jamie," he whined. I bit his earlobe and dug my hands into his hair roughly before stilling my hips. His eyes opened in near panic. "Fine, no, no. Shit, I'll leave her alone." His eyes darkened when I didn't immediately resume my actions. "Don't you dare fucking stop," he threatened. I smiled victoriously. Restarting the movement with my hips, I moved away from his upper body. He looked about to complain until I grabbed both his hands and placed them on my breasts.

"Mmm, that's good, Tig." He explored my chest, massaging each breast with newfound fervor. I leaned back, getting a better angle to grind on him. "Moving onto the bigger issue, what has you so riled up?"

As I rolled my hips with practiced perfection, Tig growled. "Club business, babe," he forced out through clenched teeth. I hummed in thought to myself; I knew I couldn't push past that. Club business stayed with the bikers, not with the sweetbutts. I continued on with a question that wouldn't put either of us in a difficult situation.

I curled my fingers in his dark hair and yanked his head back, moving to suck on a sensitive spot on his neck that seemed to be on all men. "Anything you can tell me about?" I purred into his skin. I lightly bit the area around his throat, causing Tig to moan.

He was in no mood to refuse answering as he replied in a strained voice, "Nearly crashed the bike." I frowned to myself. I knew whoever caused their bikes to get torn up was losing their life in a brutal and painful way.

"Poor baby," I cooed, kissing up the area of his exposed chest and under his chin. "I'll make it all better." I moved one of Tig's hands to my ass, the flimsy thong the only thing blocking me from being completely bare to him. He slammed his head into the back of his chair.

"Oh, fuck yes," he hissed. He groped the area harshly. I was sure to have bruises on my ass from his strong hands. With his hands in this new position, he took the lead and moved me of his own free will. I was practically being slammed down onto his erection.

I followed his actions, and got rougher in my demeanor. I bit at his skin and scratched my nails into his skull. His fingers were digging almost painfully into the flesh of my ass.

It wasn't long till all my efforts pushed him over the edge. He came with a strangled groan that was barely heard in the loud club. What we were doing was hardly obscene. Most guys were either getting sucked off or fucking someone right in the middle of the party. Compared to everyone else, our actions were mild.

When Tig was able to move, he released his forceful grip on my body. His breathing was gradually going back to normal. I didn't climb off his lap, just moved so most of my weight wasn't on him.

"Fuck Jamie," he laughed roughly, "you got me cumming in my pants like I'm fourteen again."

I chuckled goodheartedly and licked my lips. "You're welcome," I smirked, giving him a little pat on the cheek.

Once he had fully recovered, I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. "You ever feeling overwhelmed, you come to me, alright? Even if it's just to talk." Staring into his light blue eyes, I could see he was thankful. Tig and I were friends. I would never be a Son, but I could still be a friend. Sometimes he just forgot there were other people outside of his brothers.

His expression suddenly turned from soft to mischievous. "So when I wake up in the morning, feeling a little "overwhelmed" can I come to you then? Will you take care of me?" I playfully slapped him in the chest.

"Dick," I giggled. He just wiggled his eyebrows and swiveled his hips underneath me suggestively. "I try to be nice…"

"Oh, you were very nice…" I climbed off of him with a snorted laugh.

He would need to clean up and I needed to check in with Gemma, if she hadn't already made off with Clay. "Seriously though Tig, you know I got you're back, buddy. I'm here." He smiled a crooked smile at me as I straightened my clothes.

"Goes both ways, Jamie," he called softly.

I carefully walked away, unable to help the smile on my face.

**~SOA~**

As I exited the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself. It was nice to remove the smell of the Club. To leave behind the constant scent of alcohol, sex, and gun powder than never managed to leave the building or the people inhabited it. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of vanilla and bergamot.

I had woken up with my hair a horrible mess. I hadn't bothered doing anything besides stripping out of my clothes and wiping off my makeup once I got home. I had been exhausted. Once the men had passed out, I had rounded up all the sweetbutts, who weren't trapped in some sleeping biker's arms, to get to cleaning. We had done a decent job getting the mess out of the way and not waking the guys up. Of course, we couldn't get everything, but the rest would be left up to the prospects.

Besides spending most of my time at the clubhouse, when I wasn't there, I was bartending at the place over by the church. I found it odd that the places were next to each other, but surprisingly, our busiest day was Sunday. I always had Fridays and Saturdays off for the club, but worked every other night. I still had the rest of the day free and intended to enjoy it.

I had gotten home sometime around ten in the morning Saturday, or today. Our parties usually lasted from Friday night to Saturday morning. I had slept around five hours before waking up. I had been eager to make the rest of the day count, even at such a late hour.

I didn't bother to change into any of my regular clothing. I didn't have anything to do today, and I would rather be comfortable than anything. I searched through my drawers for a large T-shirt. I found a navy blue one before making my way over to grab some underwear. I didn't own any underwear that was extremely comfortable. I was rarely at home, and most of my outfits, under garments as well, was seen by most of the club. I couldn't afford donning anything less than club worthy. So I grabbed some innocent white, lacy boy shorts.

I exited my bedroom, intent on having a lazy day. I would maybe pig out on some ice cream and watch a Supernatural marathon.

Any plans I had instantly disappeared as I caught sight of a large, hulking man standing right directly in the middle of my hallway.

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**Who is it? As if you didn't know. Sorry for the cliffhanger… or am I? Until next chapter! Tell me how you liked it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sons of Anarchy. But I'm going to own some lamb stew and soda bread in my stomach later. Jealous?**

**I thought so.**

**If you aren't comfortable reading smut, but are still interested in this story, just go ahead and skip over this chapter.**

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My breath stopped. The man didn't move an inch, simply stared at me with dark eyes.

I could see his tattooed arms underneath the shirt. He was lean, but muscular and undeniably strong. He was intimidating, even without a Sons of Anarchy cut on.

"You need a dog or something. Too easy to pick the lock."

It took me half a minute to process everything before I was on him. I literally jumped on him, wrapping my legs around his hips.

It had been much too long since he had been around. Therefore, it had been much too long since I had been able to receive any release for my sex-deprived body. As soon as I spotted him, the familiar anticipation and longing sent waves of impatient desire through me.

My lips met his. I was more aggressive than I usually was, but it had been five fucking months. I was a twenty-six year old woman with prominent needs. He didn't seem to mind as he responded similarly; dominating my mouth with his in a hot, demanding way.

As my tongue slid along his, I wrapped my arms around his neck. His rough, large hands slid along my thighs to my ass, hoisting me higher. Unlike Tig, I didn't have enough control to pull away or attempt to form coherent thoughts. Mostly because my body was unable to resist his hands and my mind was too foggy to think anything else besides _Happy_.

Happy Lowman. I was in love with Happy fucking Lowman. He didn't deserve my love when he couldn't return it. I didn't deserve what I was doing to myself. We didn't deserve my feelings complicating everything. I was just a convenient lay when he was horny and in the area. He was simply supposed to be another biker amongst the rest of them. Just a good fuck.

But he was so good that I went Happy and never went back.

My loud thoughts faded as he deepened the kiss, his tongue practically brushing the back of my throat. I moaned, pressing myself impossibly closer to him. I could feel his hard, chiseled body, still taut from the long ride he had no doubt just been on. I was practically pulsing with need and knew I would need to change my underwear before I leaked through them. He either needed to fuck me or my undergarments were about to never get the smell of cum off them.

Happy massaged my ass with his hands, turning his head to get a better angle and dive deeper into my mouth. I caught him by surprise and captured his bottom lip while he was maneuvering. I sucked on it lightly, teasing the tender flesh with my teeth.

I whimpered when he suddenly slammed me against my kitchen counter. The counter was directly next to the hallway by the entrance. The space was a bit cramped in my tiny house, but it just made me more aware of the heat and nonexistent space between us. I felt something hard and long, the thing I had ached for the last few months, press against my center. The feeling was overwhelming as a shot of lust hit me. I tore my lips away from his.

"Happy," I hissed, arching in response to the contact. I rolled my hips against his, eager for more of the sensation. I leaned most of my weight against the counter, trying to grind against him. I writhed on him like some sort of insatiable slut. I didn't care how desperate I seemed, as long as he finally got me off. God, I fucking wanted this. I needed this.

But suddenly he was gone as my legs slipped from his waist to the ground. I stood on shaky limbs as he backed away. His dark eyes glinted at me. I tried to figure out what was going on with my hazy mind.

"Turn around," he ordered in a low growl. My heart stopped for a second before I could react. A surge of delicious excitement coursed through me, and my desire multiplied. If my underwear wasn't already fucking ruined, his words had just done them in. I paused, not complying to his words immediately. His eyes hardening, he released an impatient, guttural warning.

The annoyance left him as I lifted the T-shirt over my head, slinging it off somewhere in the direction of my fridge. I gained some of my senses back, enough to smile coyly at him as he gazed darkly at me. He slowly took me in with a kind of burning look most people only saw on men in the movies. But Happy had it down perfectly, with a certain predatory intensity in his stare. He pulled me to him, his hands gliding over my breasts. It felt like he was punishing me as he forced a bruising kiss on my lips. I had barely enough time to savor the contact before he had pushed me away completely.

"Turn the fuck around, Jamie," he ordered roughly, daring me to try and deny him. I didn't try to rebel against his severe demand this time. I simply turned around, pressing my hands against the counter's edge to steady my unstable body. I was feeling so much at once. But overpowering all those feelings was the sensation of uninhibited lust.

I heard the jangling of a belt being undone and I needed to clench my thighs together to keep myself from coming apart right then and there. I groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain as I waited. I wouldn't dare turn around now. I didn't know what consequences would await me, but I didn't want to face them now when I was so close to getting what I wanted.

Happy trailed a hand down my spine and I stayed perfectly still. Even when his hands curved along my ass I didn't move. Only when he began to pull at my underwear did I squirm. He tugged roughly at the band of my white panties. I wasn't surprised when he ripped them off my body completely. I didn't much care. Maybe I would later, but I highly doubted it.

There was the quick sound of a zipper and then clothes hitting the floor. I breathed through my nose, trying to contain my excitement.

I couldn't resist turning my head when I felt him standing close behind me, his dick hard and long against my thigh. However, I didn't get far when a hand wrapped in my hair, holding my head still. He yanked on the long, dark strands threateningly. He wasn't going to stand for me being insolent. I grinned, fucking loving every second of this. A foot kicked my legs apart roughly.

Happy's free hand lowered and I sucked in a breath as a teasing finger ran along my slit.

"Fucking soaking," he murmured, more to himself. I whimpered when he lazily started massaging my folds, just barely touching me with the tip of his finger. "You this wet for me, girl?" he asked in a raspy voice, the words directed to me this time. It was no secret that Happy was the only one I wanted – the only one that made me feel anything – and he would be sure to exploit that. I bit my lip almost hard enough to draw blood. I didn't want him to draw this out. I needed him now.

I nodded my head as best I could with his firm hold on my locks. "Yes, and you fucking know it," I hissed.

He chuckled darkly. "You been with anyone else? Anyone else been stretching that tight little pussy?" I didn't respond, just glared harshly, even though he could not see my face. His fingers tightened in my hair to the point of pain. He could be mean when he wished to. He would never love me back, he wouldn't give me a second thought if I became a problem to him, and he took a sick pleasure in knowing I still wanted him despite all that. "Anyone else been fucking you? Getting you off since I was last here?"

I finally answered through gritted teeth. "No."

He groaned and my insides lit with fire at the delightful sound. "God, bet you're so fucking tight. Going to have to get used to me all over again. Probably won't be able to take all me, you're so tight." My fingers gripped the counter so hard it could break. I was nearly panting hearing his deep gravelly voice in my ear saying such dirty things.

I pushed my ass out, rubbing against his cock. "Why don't you find out?" I dared. There was a half second of silence while I waited for him to react.

I wasn't prepared as he slammed into me in one smooth move. True to his words, I could barely take his length as he filled me and stretched me painfully. I cried out sharply and leaned against the counter as I adjusted.

"Fuck, Jamie," he growled. I whimpered. I was pleasantly surprised when he waited for me to get used to him, but right now, I would rather he move to take away the pain. I wanted him to replace it with the pleasure only he could create.

"Move," I mumbled breathily. He thankfully listened. Happy pulled out of my slowly, before thrusting back in, almost more powerfully than before. I arched and mewled, the feeling so amazing I could barely contain myself. I cried out as he moved again, but this time the sound was born of pleasure.

With each drive into me, pushing against my sensitive walls, I made uncontrollable sounds. It was almost too much to take all at ounce. The pleasure was overwhelming as he slammed into me repeatedly, unrelenting. I panted as he increased speed. I wanted to tell him to speed up and slow down simultaneously. I wanted more, but I didn't know if I could take all that he had to give me.

His hand released from my hair, and both hands clasped onto my hips. He pulled me back to meet him, thrust for thrust. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming aloud in ecstasy. I was gripping the counter as he all but rammed me into it in his movement. Fuck, I was not going to last long at the rate he was going. I could feel myself about to explode. I was ready to let go and be drowned in orgasmic bliss. I closed my eyes and pressed myself back onto him.

My eyes opened in a flash when he pulled out, leaving me feeling vacant and needy. I whimpered out pathetically. "Happy," I whined, feeling utterly empty and unsatisfied.

"Turn around," he growled. I instantly did what he said, needing him back in me.

He lifted me easily, hoisting me up to his body, and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively. He reentered me in one smooth move. I grabbed onto the edge of the counter, as he held me to him by the ass.

I moaned loudly, liking this position intensely. It allowed him to fill me completely, his entire length inside of me. I knew I would be sorer than all hell tomorrow, but I just couldn't give a fuck at the moment. I extended my body when he hit a particularly sensitive area.

As I curved my body into the new angle, it allowed him to find the one spot that made all hell break loose. I screamed his name, falling apart. The wanton bliss that filled my body was better than any drug could ever be. I left earth for a moment, my mind reaching a heaven-like ecstasy. Every nerve in my body was on fire in the most pleasant, delicious way.

I was shaking and panting as my body tried to come down from the climax, but Happy didn't give me a chance to recover. He kept slamming into me. I was overly sensitive and the sensation was devastatingly wonderful. It was almost painful how much pleasure my body was taking. The bliss I was already feeling started building to new heights. I didn't know if I could handle another earth shattering orgasm.

But Happy was willing to test that, and I was more than willing to let him.

He thrusted into me at a new, hastened pace, much quicker than the last. I knew he was close, and I was more than ready to burst.

Happy pulled back one more time, nearly exiting me completely. He paused hovering just at my entrance.

Then he rammed into me, shoving my back roughly against the countertop. He groaned roughly before releasing a strangled yell.

I saw stars. At the same time he exploded into me, I was falling apart for the second time. This orgasm was even more powerful than the first. I blacked out for half a second and nearly stopped breathing. Nothing existed except for Happy and I. My pleasure laced mind was too inebriated to feel comprehend anything else.

I could not coherently grasp anything for a full minute. My breathing eventually began to slow and I could finally move my limbs of my own freewill. Happy and I detangled from each other. I landed on wholly unstable legs and grabbed onto the edge of counter for much needed support.

I cleared my throat. It took a moment for my sluggish mind to form intelligible words for what I wanted to ask. "So," I murmured in a hoarse voice. "What brings you to Charming?"

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**I hope everyone enjoyed this ;). First time ever posting smut, so tell me if it was any good or if I need to improve. Thanks for reading! Check out my other stories, Walking Dead fanfictions, if you're interested in my writing. **

**Sorry it's so short. I really wanted to get this little treat out today (Because it's St. Patrick's Day!) The next update will be longer. **

**For those who skipped over this chapter, the only important information you need to get from this is that the man was obviously Happy, Jamie hasn't seen him in five months, and Jamie is twenty-six years old. **

**Until next time! Big thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews this story received! **


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